Honeymoon - James Patterson [84]
“For a long time, Olivia fooled us about her actual condition. She used to play all kinds of tricks to make us believe she was a lot worse off than she actually is. One time, when Nora was here, she pretended to have a seizure because her daughter was going to reveal something she shouldn’t, and Olivia knew we tape all patient visits. Olivia is a very good actress. Isn’t that right, dear?”
Olivia was watching Susan and me, but she had listened to what the nurse had to say. “I suppose so.”
“Well, we’ve pretty much agreed to let Olivia stay here at Pine Woods anyway. But only if she agrees to help you.”
Olivia nodded, still staring at Susan and me.
“I’ll help,” she said in a whisper. “What choice do I have?” At which point, Olivia set down her novel and climbed out of bed.
As Olivia walked over to the closet, Emily spoke. “Every time Nora would visit, she’d bring a new novel for her mother to read, even though she didn’t believe Olivia actually read the books.”
Olivia was reaching into her closet and then pulled out a cardboard box. I could already see that it was filled with books and also some wrapping, some envelopes.
“Then Nora stopped visiting. But then a package arrived, addressed to Olivia. It was from Nora. There was even a note,” said Emily.
I started to get excited. A package. Surely, this was about tracing where it came from. Had Nora been foolish enough to include a return address? That would’ve been too good to be true.
And it was.
Emily explained that there was nothing on the package to reveal anything about Nora’s whereabouts.
“No return address. No foreign postage stamps or markings. Only a smudged, unreadable postmark.”
She turned to Olivia. “Please give Agent O’Hara the note you received.”
I took it, unfolded the paper, and read it aloud.
“‘Dear Mother, sorry I can’t be there to visit with you. Hope you enjoy the book. Always with much love. Your daughter, Nora.’”
I re-read the note, then shook my head. “What’s so special about this?”
Susan fielded this one. “Everything. As careful as Nora was, she wasn’t careful enough.”
She stared at Emily.
I stared at Emily.
Finally, Emily explained what she’d obviously already told Susan. “Look very closely at the piece of paper, Agent O’Hara. Hold it up to the light,” she said. “Do you see it? Lower right corner.”
I held the note to the window and then placed it close to my eyes.
Holy shit.
The stationery had a custom watermark.
I looked back at the others—and saw that Olivia had begun to cry. “She’s such a good daughter. Such a love.”
Chapter 111
NORA STROLLED OUT to her private terrace in the afternoon sun, wearing nothing but a pale blue bikini bottom and a brilliant smile. She sipped from a bottle of Evian, then pressed it against her cheek. She’d yet to tire of the view of the Baie Longue beach and its glowing white sand, the way it seemed to melt into the turquoise waters of the Caribbean. She couldn’t have designed it any better herself.
La Samanna on the island of St. Martin had a well-deserved reputation as an exclusive hideaway resort. Nora was employing the hideaway part. During the day, behind her Chanel sunglasses, she was a rich socialite lounging by the pool. And at night—well, the way she and Jordan had been heating up the bedroom, dinner was always courtesy of room service.
In fact, on some days, like honeymooners, they never left their villa. Thankfully, La Samanna also had a great room-service menu for breakfast and lunch.
“Darling, do you want the Duval-Leroy or the Dom Pérignon today?” Jordan called from the bedroom.
Decisions, decisions . . .
“You pick for us, honey,” said Nora.
Jordan Mauch, Dallas real-estate tycoon, was a born decision maker. The one that had made him the most money was recognizing Scottsdale, Arizona, as the next West Palm Beach before anyone else did. His latest decision involved his personal life. What a good move to hire Nora Sinclair to decorate my new house just outside